Author Topic: Storm Surge (Part Three)  (Read 1101 times)

Offline davidleejones13

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Storm Surge (Part Three)
« on: January 03, 2009, 02:44:24 PM »

"A man is not an orange. You can't eat the fruit and throw the peel away."

                                                                        ARTHUR MILLER, Death of a Salesman

"I have taken the liberty of sending along your spare bottle of medicine," my secretary said from the other end, "Denise will deliver it to you about ten minutes after you arrive."

"How did you know I was out?"

"Terry, I am your assistant, I have known you for years. The episode I just witnessed between you and Don is not the boss I know. "

"Thanks Trudy," I felt my face flush once again, "I owe you one."

"No problem boss. Good Luck. God help you find the evidence you need to locate the President and get him back safely."

My eyes darted to my rearview.

"I may already have a lead," the dark SUV was still there keeping it's distance," I will fill you in later."

"Please be careful Terry."

As I processed her reaction to my statement I detected a hint of surprise in my secretary's voice within her last words. The uneasiness threatened to consume me and if it were not for the stormy sea of insanity that raged deep inside, my agitation would have caused me to lose control. But the inner turmoil seem to sharpen my senses, and give me the strength I needed to keep myself in control.

"I will Trudy."

As I disabled the call I could not help the nagging feeling I had just said my last goodbye to my long time assistant. I pulled into the drive with a forlorn sigh and stopped at the gate of the "Little White House" just before dawn.

Despite President Gerald Gilmore's public post, he was a very quiet and private man. For this reason within his second term, and to the dismay of his chief security advisor, he purchased the lavish mansion on the outskirts of Washington, DC to serve as his family's getaway from political life.

The press had dubbed it the "Little White House" and there always seemed to be an eternal vigilant representative just outside the mansion's main gate, waiting for any breaking news. As I approached the guard shack I saw the haggard reporter and immediately recognized him as the old beat reporter from my old home town's local television affiliate. He too recognized me and glimmer of hope flashed in his eye as I slowly drove past him.

"This seems all too convinient," my current state of mind flashed cautiously, "my position has always afforded me anonymity, what are the odds of someone from the reporting pool being here that knows exactly who I am?"

As I showed my credentials to the marine guard and pulled through the gate  I checked the rearview to see the camera light flare behind me. In the background the black SUV that had been my tail slowly pulled passed by the driveway. A tingle of excitement charged every nerve ending within my body.

"Let the circus begin," I mumbled and drove the short distance to the main house humming "The March of the Elephants" quietly to myself.

Upon reaching the front entrance I found the outside of the building deceivingly calm.  Two marines stood as statues their eyes following my every move as I parked my car making the caboose of a train of several that had arrived before me.

I once again presented my ID and moments later found myself in the grand foyer of the Little White House. I was met by a handful of my team eager to begin our investigation.

"Why have you not already begun?" I asked contentiously, "you know that time is of the utmost importance in kidnapping cases? Have I not taught you people anything?"

My voice had crescendoed into a shout at the last sentence.

"I told them to hold on until you arrived Inspector." The words echoed throughout the foyer amid a very tense silence. I slowly turned to spy the source standing within the doorway to the main living room to my right. He approached extending his hand outward as I stared on blankly.

"I am your new assistant Christian Solvay" he said smugly as he reached the center of the foyer where I stood staring at his outstretched hand with unhidden disgust screwing up my face. I grabbed the hand tightly, the darkness within my soul sending a shot of adrenaline through my veins and into my right hand. I smiled inwardly at the sudden shock on the young man's face upon feeling the sharp pain the hand shake inflicted.

"Pleased to meet you," I said through clenched teeth.